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A list:

The sky looks like

torn up candy

shredded and pink.

The toppled tree

still grasping

upwards

a hand from the grave.

And fog over the road

comes into the lungs.

The last few seconds

silence

before you ask

is this what you wanted?

But if we were serious.

-

I was supposed to ask

your friend out

a club a bar a bookstore

but got stoned instead

danced in my underwear

so damn neat.

I say

if you come to my reading

you can take your

clothes off in the car

and I’ll eat you out

on a rooftop

like that French guy in Dublin.

Completely misread.

Wait. I write serious things.

I want to kiss

all your biker

tattoos and sell my hips

whatever shop you run.

Right?

I forget to flush the toilet

so it’s shit and cigarettes

good morning.

Right?

-

Well the sky is torn up candy.

I want to take you shopping

for croc skinned loafers

but all I got is a jar

full of pennies and coastal air

-

What a downer.

-

What a downer.

-

What a downer.

-

Just read the other ones

the ones I feel real in

this one is just for you.